NokiMo
PierceGrey
PierceGrey

patreon


Chapter 437: Elf cake (Patreon only scene)

Naya actually asked for his permission to go see the elves and get things prepared. He definitely hadn’t adjusted to her far more conservative culture, and as he stared at his closet trying to pick something to wear, he’d mostly just waved a hand until he realized she hadn’t moved.

“You don’t need my permission,” he said, which just resulted in a confused stare.

“You are my husband,” she said. “Of course I will not leave your house alone without permission.”

It wasn’t like it bothered him, exactly. There was even something oddly…attractive about it, especially to his Cerebus-infused brain. It just wasn’t how he was raised. And it also didn’t seem fair since none of Mason’s other women had any kind of rules. Plus Mason really didn’t have the time or energy to tell her what she could do all the time.

On the other hand, Naya was probably equally uncomfortable with his way of doing things. She expected her husband to act in certain ways, to conform to what she’d probably seen from her father and other elven males her entire life.

He suspected if he didn’t at least attempt to play along, she might think he didn’t care about her. Or their marriage. You didn’t tell someone ‘just ignore centuries of your culture now, OK?’ Even if she was ‘adapting’.

“What I mean is,” he said, trying to pick his words. “You’re free here…in Nassau. We’re all your family. So you can go where you like and see who you like. In Nassau.”

She played with her hands in that increasingly familiar gesture of discomfort.

“I understand, husband, and I thank you. Perhaps…one day, I may feel as you say. But today I do not. I know I’m supposed to be changing to a new world. But…I can’t imagine being comfortable around…human men. Alone.”

Mason took a breath and stepped away from his closet, putting his hands on Naya’s arms.

“You’re comfortable enough with me,” he said,  forcing his hands not to wander.

“It’s not the same,” she said, almost pouting. “You smell different. And you have proven yourself a friend to our people. I can’t…I can’t trust them, Mason. We are taught since childhood not to trust other races. And for good reason.”

Mason had kind of forgotten about the whole ‘everyone wanted elves’ thing, and slowly started to understand. He knew elves carried all kinds of benefits, probably both perceived and real, to the other creatures of roboGod’s world. He had actual objectives to win their trust, to gain them as followers.

And now to impregnate as many as possible, he reminded himself.

When he’d first seen the objective he’d assumed it meant…in general. Like he should hold some kind of mass wedding between the elves and his people. His men certainly wouldn’t complain. And with the system’s push to mate and Nassau’s aura of life, he figured a few months and Bob’s literally your uncle…

But he was starting to realize that might be trickier than expected. Who knew what other tempting objectives might pop up between people and elves? And he also needed to make sure Naya felt like he was taking her (and her people’s) safety seriously.

“OK,” he said. “I have an…animal friend named Violet, and she needs something to do. How do you feel about a giant purple worm following you around everywhere?”

Naya grinned, and Mason figured he was on the right track. He went a little further.

“And feel free to take Streak whenever you go out. I’ll make sure he understands and will bite any human man who touches you. If he’s gone too, talk to Becky. She’d be happy to help.”

Naya came a little closer and put her fingertips on Mason’s chest, obviously pleased.

“Thank you for understanding, husband.”

She rose up to her toes and kissed him almost chastely, soft lips sending a bolt of lightning down his body. For a moment he forgot what the hell he was supposed to be doing, his arms trying to curl around the slim little elf as he envisioned ripping clothes off…

Naya smiled and bit her lip.

“My people,” she said, pulling away. “We have a ‘date’, remember?”

Mason fought the growl. Naya’s nipples had hardened through the shirt, and he could smell her arousal. But he decided to consider this a lesson to his dick about who was in charge.

He pulled back with a deep breath and as much of a civilized smile as possible.

“Streak’s waiting outside, and he’ll have the idea now. Go ahead. I’ll be there in…thirty minutes? I mean I can help cook, or clean dishes or something, too.”

Naya looked ready to laugh in his face, but just shook her head.

“The head of the house does not cook or clean, husband. I’ll see you soon.”

With that she hesitated, then kissed him again, face flushing pink.

“Thank you for taking this seriously. It’s very important to me.”

“Well. You’re important to me,” Mason said, smiling as Naya kept moving closer into his arms.  But with one last kiss she pulled away and grinned with excitement, waving as she hurried for the door.

Mason took a few calming breaths, and considered a very cold shower. Now he just had to get through an evening of being surrounded by unearthly beautiful women. All who’d be waiting on him hand and foot with ‘yes lord’ and ‘of course, lord’. And somehow he’d have to do it without letting his ridiculous libido get out of control.

He wasn’t quite sure if it was his dick or Cerebus faintly laughing on his ears.

 

 

  *

 

Mason managed to both find a closet with his clothes, and pick out a black suit. He was feeling pretty pleased with himself before he realized he had no idea where the shoes or ties were.

“Haley!” he called, stepping towards the door. It opened a second later, his blonde beauty stepping through in work-out clothes, still panting slightly.

“I can’t keep up with Rosa anymore,” she said, tying her hair into a ponytail. “I don’t know if it’s the baby or if I’m just getting out of shape.”

Mason swept her with his eyes, struggling not to notice her large breasts were getting even slightly larger with her pregnancy. Her nipples were also hard and seriously denting her tight, gray muscle shirt.

“I…can’t find my shoes,” he said, warring with his eyes. Haley blinked.

“Oh. They’re underneath. It’s a separate cupboard. And the ties are on a different rack. Over there.”

She pulled the handle to reveal both, and Mason sighed, trying not to feel like an idiot. He turned and narrowed his eyes.

“What did you think I needed you for?”

“Um.” Haley shrugged, creeping back towards the door.

Mason stepped forward and put a hand against it, looming several inches over her. He flicked one of her nipples through her shirt, making her gasp.

“Whatever it was. It got you pretty excited.”

“I just thought…” Haley licked her lips. “You might want…to be at your best. With the elves, I mean.”

The bonfire of Mason’s lust took a bucket of gasoline. He peeled Haley’s workout top up, higher and higher until her amazing tits dropped loose and exposed. She’d backed up against the door now, breathing hard as Mason cupped her breasts and played with her rock-hard nipples.

“I’ve got a good half an hour,” he said, the soft, warm flesh squeezing so satisfyingly in his grip. “I was thinking a cold shower. But I think I’ll go another way.”

Haley closed her eyes and bit her lip as Mason played.

“Oh your knees,” he whispered in her ear.

“Yes, Master.”

Haley stared up into his eyes as she undid his pants and pulled them down. He was already hard and she smirked as she pulled out his length.

“All business,” he said, fighting the grin. “No time to take care of you. So be a good wife and drain your husband.”

Haley moaned and her eyes fluttered as she slid him past her lips. He sighed as the soft, wet warmth of her mouth enveloped him, her tongue tracing expert circles around his head.

Having a woman like Haley not only drop to her knees on command, but legitimately enjoy the experience, was still a bit hard to comprehend. Her eyes fluttered as she bobbed down his shaft, her little sucking and moaning noises driving him wild.

He put a hand on her head and met her halfway, thrusting into her mouth with his other hand on her chin. She looked up at him with such lust and affection he already started losing control.

There was something incredibly hot about being constrained—about being pleasured with no other plan in mind. This wasn’t to warm him up or leading to something else. She was just 100% here to blow him, and his mind drifted with the sensation and the view. He relaxed as Haley’s silky lips stroked him with the softest touch.

He held her ponytail and stared down at her big blue eyes, her bouncing tits. Even now she had perfect posture, like her dancing instructor would be coming to inspect. She sucked and stroked with one hand in a steady rhythm, milking him until the pressure built.

When his cock started twitching, she clamped down with her lips, gently squeezed his balls, and tried to suck out his soul.

He grabbed the wall and practically broke off a chunk as he came, filling her mouth with a giant first blast. She powered through and took him deeper, eyes closing with pleasure as she swallowed.

He just stood there lost in the bliss, mind gone—trusting her completely to finish him perfectly. And she did.

When he stopped twitching in sensitive pleasure, he took a deep breath and played with her ponytail, smiling down at her as she planted little kisses on his tip and licked down his shaft like she was smoothing icecream.

For a long moment he was pretty sure they’d both forgotten what they were supposed to be doing. Or maybe that was just him. Reality eventually came rushing back, and after another opportunistic grope of Haley’s tits, Mason helped her stand.

“Very good girl,” he said, kissing her forehead and grabbing her ass. “Now off you go. But don’t let the others know what you’ve been up to.”

“Yes, Master,” Haley said, licking her lips and swiping a little of his lost cum off her chin with a finger before sucking it absently. She pulled down and straightened her shirt, giving him a little wave as she went for the door. “Have fun. Be nice.”

Mason caught her, whispering in her ear.

“When I get back, we’ll finish this.”

“Shouldn’t you stay the night with the elves?” she said coyly, pretending to try and get away.

“This is my house,” he said, trailing a finger down Haley’s back. “Keep the bed warm for me.”

She nodded with lust-filled eyes, and Mason smacked her ass one more time before letting her out the door.

 

 

  *

 

Mason walked in a satisfied haze to the new 'elven' quarter, realizing he hadn't actually been there before. After the creation of the Nexus, most of the elves had moved up with everyone else on the platform houses. Their actual purchased 'buildings' (like the scout enclave and the seer's hut) were still below, but the elves themselves lived in the tree.

The houses were better, but Mason expected the main reason was safety. It was the main thing on his mind now that it was...a bit clearer, thanks to Haley. He needed to make Naya and her people feel safe. And not just from the outside world, but from the people in Nassau. He hadn't ever really considered that, and he supposed he should have.

He trusted his players with his life—with a couple minor exceptions. And he didn't think about his civilians as any kind of possible threat, except maybe as spies.

But anyone could hurt an elf. And the system seemed keen to encourage the various creatures of the world to do just that. Being part of his House probably helped. But they still hadn't really interacted with him. All they had was their trust in Naya.

He arrived at the platform and stared at the many beautiful houses all variously integrated into the tree itself. The elves had already been decorating the outside, both with familiarly mundane things, and also with magic.

Colorful paints had been used on doors and walls to make what Mason assumed were elven symbols. Some lines were hung for laundry and now covered with eye-catching silk and cloth.

After a few seconds of admiring the obviously feminine touches, he stopped and realized: he had no idea where he was going.

It's not like the elves had a 'hall'. On the other hand, he assumed the entire lot of them were all crammed in the same house preparing...something. So he probably just had to knock until someone answered...

Then he remembered Wayfinder literally showed him everyone in his House as little dots. And also he basically had super senses. Around the same time he stopped and started paying attention to hear the commotion, he'd found the swarming hive of elves on his map. He walked to the obvious house and took a few deep breaths.

It's just a bunch of foreign women, he thought. You can do this. There's no killing or dying or mortal danger. The stakes are low. Some women might not like you. It's fine. You're immortal and they live centuries. Plenty of time to try again.

His pep talk wasn't helping, so he just forced himself to knock. Scurrying and panicked feminine voices followed.

"What? Already? I thought you said we had an hour!"

"I said half an hour."

"We can't make Husband Cake in half an hour!"

"Go!" Someone hissed.

"Me? Why me?" said a rare male voice, followed by a lot of hissing and probably hand waving. It all helped Mason’s nerves a little. He fought the grin as the door cracked, and Orlon the scout master touched his fingers to his temple and smiled.

"Good evening, Baron. Please come in."

The man was dressed in his scout uniform, long hair slicked and tied, every perfectly symmetrical inch of him the sign of a careful, military man. He actually looked sharp as hell, and Mason unconsciously glanced at his suit, hoping he wasn't wrinkled or disheveled. Had he even touched his hair?

"Good evening, Orlon. They wrangled you into this, too, did they?"

The elf smiled, but it was polite.

"It's a great honor to be served before one’s wedding, my lord. And I was happy to accept the invitation."

Male solidarity failure plus insult cultural event. Check, Mason thought. Good start. Maybe I should spit on the floor next.

He cleared his throat and walked in, struck by a wave of pleasant scents, mixed between perfume and cooking spices. Naya practically came running from another room. She’d changed into a new silk outfit full of colors and elaborate layers, as well as a collection of jewelry that highlighted everything it touched.

Not that Naya needed highlighting. Mason’s eyes were particularly captured by a blue pendant dangling down her neck, resting between the elf’s thin-fabric covered breasts. She bowed and touched her head as usual.

"I'm sorry, husband. I should have been here to greet you."

"Oh, Orlon and I managed." Mason glanced at the scout and couldn't help but see the slight grimace at the word 'husband'. He realized these people were very formal and just because Naya had decided to 'adapt', it didn't mean her people had. His mind screamed something and he added quickly: “You look beautiful, by the way.”

Naya smiled but didn’t otherwise react. And Mason also realized, for all he knew, the other elves thought his treatment of her was terrible—that he was taking advantage of their situation and forcing her hand. Maybe even dishonoring her. Figuratively and literally.

He had no idea how he should be treating a 'wife' in front of a bunch of elves in any case. His nerves stopped relaxing, and mostly he tried not to panic. Fortunately, Naya came forward and took his hand, still looking happy.

"We're mostly ready. Come and sit. We'll drink some special…tea, and eat some...I think you'd call them pastries. Though there's not so much sugar as you humans use. And you might find the flour strange."

Mason went along with the same smile he expected to plaster on his face all night. But Naya looked so thrilled and excited it was pretty easy to go along. This was for her, after all, he reminded himself. And if Mason could literally twist his body into a weapon with awful suffering, surely to God he could be a pleasant, confident, social being for a night.

When she got him to the spacious living room now filled with women and tables, a good portion of the room quieted as the elves bowed or touched their heads. There were women everywhere, and they were all statuesque and gorgeous and why couldn’t he remember literally any of their names.

They were staring like he was supposed to say or do something.

"At ease," he said with what he hoped passed for charm, already regretting trying to be clever. The elves mostly just seemed confused. "Thanks for the invitation," he finished very lamely.

Some smiled and went back to working on what looked like a good fifty bowls or plates. Mason wiped some sweat off his temple, already hating the damn suit and fighting the urge to rip his tie off. But considering he’d marched straight through a desert he knew it wasn’t actually the heat.

Still, after so much time being practically naked out in the wilds, the feeling of clothes and shoes (and people) was always uncomfortable and restrictive. Was he going to be like Cerebus one day, he wondered? Pretty much naked and sitting on some throne of skulls?

Naya took him to a table and fussed over seating him, and soon vaguely familiar, beautiful elven faces were whisking by, delivering half a dozen dishes and drinks.

"I hope you're hungry, Naya said, taking his hand and giving it a squeeze. Now that she was closer he realized her formal silks seemed less restrictive, even thinner, and more natural looking, like they had less layers.

The fabric clung to her curves, inviting Mason's eyes in ways he definitely didn't think he should be accepting in public.

"Always," he said, suddenly very glad Haley had lessened the tension.

He leaned back to let his 'servers' keep filling up space, trying to smile at and thank the women as best he could.

"OK," he said, staring at the plates and bowls of mystery food. "Where do I start?"

Comments

I think he would benefit from making an open apology for any faux pas, blunders, or snafus he might cause by not understanding their culture and ask that they explain anything that actually matters for him to abide by so he can try, and forgive the rest, explain that he is a horribly undiplomatic individual, even by human standards, and he doesn't even really know or understand the etiquette of his own culture, let alone theirs, and probably never will, but he'll try to be as respectful as possible. That's what I'd do in his position (and have done on a few occasions at LARPs, more or less). Just lay his cards on the table, acknowledge the awkwardness, and make it clear that any slights are entirely unintentional. Yeah some of them are probably aware of all that, and all of them should be capable of putting it together from context, at least in theory, but straight up pointing it out, apologizing for any unintended misstep, and directly asking for lenience goes a long way to making it explicitly clear you are making as much of an effort as possible.

Jacob Bissey

TFTC Boy I would love to be Mason but also not want to be him. Being in that much formalities and female emotions would make me want to run away.

Mocherthrath


Related Creators